True Love
by fairyMei33
Summary: A rewrite of The Corpse Bride. Victor and Emily.
1. What Dreams May Come

Disclaimer: I own no part of The Corpse Bride. This fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter One: What Dreams May Come

Everything was darkness. A never-ending black that seemed to permeate everything more heavily than the very darkest night. No light of any kind illuminated this void of nothing.

An old, gnarled and half-dead tree came into being, fading in like mist retreating. It was only barely visible through the darkness.

A girl stood in front of this tree, hidden by both the unending darkness as well as the shadows of the trees limbs and trunk. Only her silhouette was visible, a ghostly outline of grey against the black of the tree trunk. Only her voice carried across to him, unimpeded by the lack of light.

Singing.

It was a song of love, of happiness, and happily ever-afters. But it was sung so sadly as to be bittersweet, sticking in your throat with such loveliness that you wanted to cry at the hurt portrayed in every note of the tune.

Evidently the song was as hard and painful to sing as it was to listen to, as the singer eventually collapsed to her knees and wept bitter, hard tears with deep sobs that seemed to be torn from the very depths of her soul.

He ached to reach for her, hold her and comfort away all her tears. Wipe away the wetness from her eyes and kiss her until her lips curved up into a smile that he somehow knew would be breathtaking.

But in this void of nothingness, he himself was nothing, possessing neither arms, nor body. Consisting only of thought and emotion.

All he could do was listen as the mostly unseen girl sobbed brokenly.

She eventually quieted slightly, bringing her right hand up in front of her and pulling down her glove, revealing a strawberry colored birthmark in the shape of a heart located directly on her palm.

This was the only thing of light in this entire world. The only thing he could see clearly.

But it was covered back up quickly as the sobs continued, renewed in some way from the sight of the mark.

She brought her hands up to her face and sobbed heart-brokenly into them.

Then, the world faded back into nothingness.

… … …

And Victor woke up, sweat pouring down his thin frame as he reached out his hand blindly to stop the girl from leaving. To draw her into his chest and comfort her in any way he could.

But there was nothing there. Only his bare little room.

He slowly drew his hand back to him, idly turning it over to reveal to himself his left palm.

Which had a strawberry colored birthmark in the shape of a heart.

His parents hated this mark.

Ungentlemanly, they called it.

Such a birthmark on a lady would be endearing, on a gentleman it was a cause of embarrassment. They had insisted he wear gloves to cover such a spot of shame for as long as he could remember.

But he liked it.

Somehow, it felt like a connection to the girl in his dreams, who shared a similar mark on a similar place.

He couldn't help but feel there was some reason he and she shared such a mark.

Even if she was just a dream…

A/N: This will be a full story, and I'm going to try to write it as fast as I can before I lose interest. I already have the entire story mapped out so I just have to write the chapters.

The scenes in this story that are identical to the movie will not be fully written for conservation of time. Please forgive the time jumps. I will provide small synopsis of the skipped scenes so people who have not seen the movie will not be confused, but they will be lacking a significant amount of details. As this story is told entirely from Victor's point of view, scenes he was not present to witness, such as Victoria's escape attempt and wedding, will be excluded.


	2. Meet Your Bride

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of The Corpse Bride. This fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter Two: Meet Your Bride

The day finally came when his parents arranged his wedding.

It was to the daughter of a Lord and Lady and he had never met her.

Today he was going to meet her for the first time. It seemed his parents were feeling generous, letting him see his bride before their wedding day. It was only for the wedding rehearsal, but it was still sort of nice to get to meet the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with before he married her.

His brother had decided to stay at their home, saying he had no part in the rehearsal and he didn't want to fluster his brother by having too many people watching him at one time.

Victor was like that. He had always been on the shyer side, more reserved and introverted. He would happily spend hours studying the different designs on moth wings rather than go out for horse-riding. He disliked being in the spot-light.

Vincent seemed the opposite. He was a born leader, having that innate charisma that drew people to him and held their trust immediately. He thoroughly enjoyed the occasional fox hunt, which he had decided years ago there were far too few of.

He was a thoughtful young man and Victor appreciated his brother for not coming to the rehearsal. Another set of judging eyes on him just might have been enough to have made him faint.

The carriage ride over to his bride's house went as he had predicted. His father musing about some secret concern and his mother fussing over him the entire time.

For all of the two minutes it took to circle around the town square statue.

He'd asked why they couldn't have just walked, but his mother had admonished him about arriving _properly_ in befitting style.

The mansion door opened to reveal a snooty butler looking down his nose at all three of them, but his mother too busy to notice as she was currently fussing over the way he was standing.

The Lord and Lady Everglot were standing on the stairway, looking remarkably like mutated gargoyles from the way they seemed to loom, glancing at each other furtively as if in silent communication before addressing their visitors.

His mother walked forward commenting about the exquisite room and decoration while his father said some often-used compliment about Lady Everglot's appearance.

Victor didn't really pay much attention, too preoccupied with readying himself for meeting his bride, but finding it particularly difficult as when he noticed the piano – which appeared to be the only furniture in the room – he wanted only to play some music to help loosen his nerves.

The piano was one of the only things he excelled at over his brother, who was truly atrocious on any instrument as yet created by mankind.

As his parents and the Everglots retired to the west drawing room for tea, he hung back slightly to play a small music piece on the piano to help settle his nervous tension.

He started by playing a simple scale to test the tuning of the instrument.

Finding it satisfactory, he sat down and started playing a tune that he _felt_ more than remembered.

As involved as he was with the music he didn't notice the young lady that walked delicately down the stairs and halted several steps away, slightly behind his right elbow, listening to his playing.

Until he looked to the side and very nearly had a heart attack.

She was standing there, hands clasped demurely behind her back. Not quite looming, but there was a sense that she was judging him against something, which only served to startle him all the more severely, causing him to jump abruptly to a standing position, cutting off in the middle of a note, knocking over the piano bench and tipping over the tiny vase on top of the piano and the equally tiny sprig of flowers contained within.

He jumped forward and caught the vase and flowers before they fell off the piano.

"Oh, oh do forgive me," he said in that delicate, slightly frightened voice that he seemed to always speak in, replacing the vase and flowers in its proper place.

She gave an odd little half shrug of her shoulders, saying, "You play beautifully," her voice equally delicate, but more refined, displaying her higher birth status.

"I-- I-- I do apologize, Miss Everglot. How rude of me to… well," he stuttered slightly, nervous of her gaze and suddenly feeling quite anxious. His eye fell on the overturned bench and he bent to right it, murmuring a polite "Excuse me," as he tugged it up and back into its correct position, using the action to help cover his anxiety.

"Mother won't let me near the piano. Music is improper for a young lady," she sighed, "Too passionate, she says."

Victor straightened himself, straightening as well his slightly crooked tie with one hand.

"If I may ask, Miss Everglot…wh-where is your ch-chaperone?" he asked.

"Perhaps, in – in view of the circumstances… you could call me… _Victoria_," she said properly, walking a little closer to him.

"Yes, of course," he replied, scratching his neck and straightening his tie again. "Well… Victoria…"

"Yes Victor?" she responded, taking another step forward.

Victor started wringing his tie with both hands, his apprehension going to a new level at her closer proximity and the subject of their discussion.

"Tomorrow, we are to be m--… mmm--…."

"Married," Victoria provided, bringing her hands out from behind her back and clasping them now in front of her.

"Yes. M--M--Married," Victor agreed.

"Since I was a child, I've-- I've dreamt of my wedding day," she said, running a hand over the piano top and sitting down on the bench. "I always hoped to find someone I was deeply in love with," she murmured sadly.

"And you've… found… that someone?" he asked, suddenly realizing that her controlled and proper behavior was probably a cover for disappointment.

She looked up at him quickly, shocked.

"Yes," she replied, looking back down at the keys demurely, "but, I can't marry him. Father says he's an unacceptable marriage candidate."

Victor sat down beside her on the bench, feeling a little more at ease with her now that he knew she felt similar to him.

"It doesn't seem right to not be able to marry the person you love the most," he said softly, thinking of the girl in his dreams.

Victoria glanced back up at him, catching on his face the same wistful and lightly desolate expression she had seen on herself in mirrors.

"You love someone else as well," she guessed.

Victor jumped slightly, startled out of his thoughts by her declaration.

Thinking over her words for a moment he replied, "I'm… not sure."

"We may not be able to love each other in our marriage," Victoria mused aloud, "but perhaps we can be friends."

Victor reviewed her words in his head, finding no flaw in her logic.

He stood from the bench, walked to her other side and offered her his hand.

"Friends?" he asked, shyly.

She smiled and took his hand, allowing him to help her rise.

"Friends," she repeated.

Lady Everglot chose that moment to walk into the room.

"What impropriety is this?" she demanded in her commanding voice that managed to intimidate and frighten them both at the same time. "You shouldn't be _alone_ together! Here it is one minute before five and you're not at the rehearsal," she said, shaking her finger at them like they were errant children and not two people about to be married. "Master Galswells is waiting. Come at once!" she commanded, waving her hand imperiously at them to follow her as she turned and lead the way, giving them little choice but to follow her.

THREE AND A HALF HOURS LATER

After a disastrous wedding rehearsal in which he had managed to actually set Lady Everglot's dress on fire, Victor stood alone on the bridge that led to the forest outside of town, slumped forward slightly and resting on one elbow on the stone railing as he looked at the simple shining gold ring in his palm.

He let out his breath in a quick sigh.

"This day couldn't get any worse," he said miserably to himself.

As if fate decided to prove him wrong, at that very moment he heard the town crier ringing his bell and bellowing for the entire town to hear, "Hear ye, hear ye! Rehearsal in ruins as Van Dort boy causes chaos! Fishy fiancée could be canned! Everglots all fired up as Van Dort disaster ruins rehearsal!"

Victor slumped a little further down as he sighed again.

Figures.

Straightening, he walked towards the darkness of the woods.

Most people did anything to avoid going into these woods. Somehow it had gotten the reputation of being haunted at some point in the obscure past, and the superstitious people of the village were still frightened of these woods.

Victor however had never found it frightening. Even as a child he would disappear into these trees for hours to get away from his obsessively bickering and 'proper' parents.

He was always thoroughly punished if they ever found out however.

When he had grown older, his trips had turned into collection excursions to gather different types of insects that he wished to study.

His parents of course thoroughly disapproved, but he had somehow managed to have two of his books on the anatomy of beetles bought for a substantial amount of money by a man named Charles something. He had also been contracted to do another reference book on the differing moth wing and body designs that were found in his area. With the amount of money these books had fetched, his parents couldn't forbid him from continuing.

He had in fact finished the last drawing of that book this very morning before he had left to meet Victoria.

Most people found insects to be disgusting, but Victor just found them fascinating.

He walked slowly past the tall trees, thinking about how badly he had mangled his vows at the rehearsal.

"It really shouldn't be all that difficult," he mused to himself. "It's just a few simple vows."

He walked further into the darkness of the forest.

"With this hand," he said, raising one hand in unison with the vow, "I will take your wine." He paused for a moment. "No," he sighed.

He walked in silence for little while, reviewing his vows before trying again.

"With this hand," he tried again, "I will cup your – OH goodness no!"

He rubbed his eyes tiredly in exasperation at what he had almost said.

"With this… with this…" he began, rubbing his chin in thought. "With this candle, I will… I will," an image of Lady Everglot's dress aflame filled his mind, "I will set your mother on fire," he groaned, still not quite believing he had managed to do that, smacking himself on the forehead as he sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree.

"It's no use," he sighed, taking the wedding ring out from his coat pocket and looking at it shining golden in his gloved hand in the moonlight.

He imagined Victoria in a traditional wedding dress coming down the isle of the church.

As much as he liked her, the idea filled him with dread.

Victoria was nice. He could easily see them becoming good friends – something many married people couldn't manage – but he just couldn't see himself taking her hand and declaring himself her husband, even though he knew he had promised to his parents he would.

There was only one person he wanted to marry, and he didn't even know what she looked like.

Still, if she were in a wedding dress with a veil, he wouldn't have to imagine what she looked like.

Maybe he could pretend – just for the ceremony – that Victoria was the girl from his dreams.

He pictured a tall girl, somewhat taller than Victoria and only slightly shorter than him, wearing a beautiful white gown walking down the church aisle to meet him at the alter. He couldn't see her face, but he knew she must be smiling.

He opened his eyes and - keeping that vision firmly in his head - he stood up with determination and tried again.

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows," he said presenting the ring in one hand and slightly raising his other in demonstration with the words. "You cup will never empty, for I will be your wine," he continued, confidence building as he kept her hidden happy face in his mind, flipping the ring in renewed assurance and catching it easily with the same hand. "With this candle," he proceeded, snapping off a twig and pretending to light the tip of another in place of the aforementioned candle, "I will light your way in darkness."

"With this ring," he said, excited he had reached the last vow without fumbling, and, seeing a gnarled branch extruding from the snow at the base of an uprooted old oak tree, knelt gently in front of it. "I ask you to be mine," he finished with a flourish, softly placing the ring on one of the slim slightly curved twigs.

He blinked, looking curiously at the branch which on closer inspection actually quite closely resembled a hand.

A crow cawed, drawing his attention away from the branch. He looked up to see a flock of crows surrounding the small clearing he was in, watching him.

The next thing he knew, he felt his arm grabbed and he was being pulled down.

He felt as his arm was pulled into the ground all the way up to his shoulder, making him knock his head soundly against the dirt floor of the woods, but he immediately started pulling away from whatever had hold of him, managing to eventually get his entire arm back out of the earth, and with a final desperate jolt of strength, pulled free and fell away to land harshly on his back.

He had kept his eyes closed during the entire strange tug-of-war so when he raised his curiously-too-heavy arm, he was suitably horrified to see a skeleton hand wearing his ring clutching his arm in a tight grip.

He shook his arm violently, managing to get it to fly off and land a small ways away from him.

A deep thumping sound drew his attention back to where the something had tried to pull him into the earth, seeing the ground being pushed up by something underneath the soil, pounding like the beat of a pulse, until finally the ground opened and an arm came up from the hole caused by the pushed aside soil, raising high, then coming forward and back down to dig into the soil like claws. After this, a whole person started coming out of the ground like it – she – it was wearing of all things a wedding dress and veil – was levitating up like an ascending bat, roots crisscrossed over her and snapping away as she rose out of the ground, until she stood level.

Slowly she raised her discolored right arm and moved aside her tattered veil to reveal a lovely but obviously dead face.

"I do," she whispered, her eyes focused solely on him.

She extended her hand down to him in a smooth motion.

It was like a signal for him to run.

He flinched away from the proffered hand and, stumbling to his feet, started to run away from the horribly beautiful bride.

He quickly passed the skeletal arm and somehow knew she was following. He looked back to make certain and tripped as he stumbled down a small hill, impacting his head against a gravestone.

Despite the instant pain, this only reminded him of what he was running from, and with a gasp, he looked up in time to see the corpse bride reach the peak of the hill and start down towards him in even strides.

He scrambled upright, using the gravestone for balance and continued running, glancing over his shoulder in panic and –

Impacting with a tree.

He stumbled back, holding a hand over his one eye, slightly dazed. He shook his head to clear his vision and saw the bride still coming ever-closer to him, arms held out in something between supplication and anticipation.

He turned to run again, and again hit the tree. He recovered quicker this time and dodged around it to keep fleeing from her.

He ran down the next small hill easily enough, but was stuck on the frozen over stream at the bottom of it. He was moving too fast to be moving at all, his feet sliding over the ice without taking him anywhere.

He looked over his shoulder and the bride was only a few yards away, looking hopeful.

He managed his way off the ice before she caught him and sped up as he saw the edge of the trees, but he had not taken the path and the small branches caught like hooks into his clothes and halted all forward motion, holding him fast like undead hands.

He fought his way through them, hearing little rips as he tore his clothes to get free, running past the outskirts of the trees and ducking as a flock of crows bombarded him at the apex of the bridge, causing him to flinch and duck to escape their beaks and small but painful claws.

He whipped around to see the forest and saw…

Nothing.

No undead corpse bride coming towards him or any other ghostly business.

Just the trees.

He panted harshly, eyes flicking from one section of the woods to the next, searching for any sign of supernatural happenings.

He turned, seeing only the other end of the bridge and the church in which he was to be married tomorrow.

Calming slightly, he backed away slowly to make his way back to the village.

He turned and came face to face with the bride.

He jumped backwards, feeling the stone of the bridge cut into his spine as he pressed himself as far away from her as he could, sandwiched between her and the railings of the bridge.

She came forward slowly, gracefully, holding her arms out and placing them on his shoulders, her dress and veil flowing beautifully behind her in the breeze.

Perhaps the most horrible thing about her was that Victor could not find her ugly, could only think of her as beautiful, despite having one arm and one leg completely devoid of flesh and the skin of one cheek missing to show the teeth of her jaw through the opening.

"You may kiss the bride," she whispered as she leaned slowly towards him, softly closing her eyes.

Her cool lips touched his and Victor's world faded as he fainted not from fear _of_ her, but from the feeling of rightness he felt from kissing her.


	3. Want To Meet The Parents?

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of The Corpse Bride. This fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter Three: Want To Meet The Parents?

Victor's world slowly faded in, revealing to him the corpse bride and a skeleton leaning over him in apparent concern.

"A new arrival!" the skeleton man – who appeared to have a mustache - said excitedly.

"He must have fainted," the Bride said in a worried tone of voice. "Are you all right?" she asked, placing her skeletal hand under neck and patting the nape of his hair in a reassuring manner.

"What--? What happened?" Victor questioned, too stunned at his environment –which appeared to be a pub filled with dead people- to be too concerned over having a corpse trying to gently bring him out of unconsciousness.

"By Jove man! Looks like we've got ourselves a breather!" the skeleton with the mustache said in surprise as he leaned closer in to him.

A small plump dead woman dressed as a cook pulled him out of the way, exclaiming "Ohhh! Does he have a dead brother?

A small skeleton boy in a tattered looking blue school suit pushed her aside, poking his chest with a stick, announcing to all the dead, "He's still soft."

Victor climbed to his feet using the bar behind him, staring aghast at the child.

"A toast" a small, dwarf-like skeleton in a French army outfit with a sword out his middle said, clanking glasses with a German army dressed skeleton with a bowling ball sized hole through his chest, drinking a pint of liquor. The German skeleton pulled out the sword which causes the liquor to come out the French skeleton's chest in a spout, filling his own glass, calmly replacing the sword and drinking the liquid, which flowed down through the hole in his chest in a stream.

"To the newly weds," the French dwarf finished, having the sword stuck back through him.

"Newly weds?" Victor asked curiously, shaking his head as he watching the entire strange toast, before looking back at the bride.

She sighed happily. "In the woods, you said your wedding vows _so_ perfectly," she says contentedly, circling from his right to his left side before showing him her skeleton hand with his wedding band on her finger.

"I did?" Victor asked, remembering the woods, "I did," he repeated, rolling his eyes.

He slammed his head into the bar top, exclaiming, "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" which sounded a little more desperate with each repetition.

He couldn't be here. This simply couldn't be possible!

A new voice caused him to turn his head to the side on the bar top as it eagerly exclaimed, "Bonjoure! Coming through! Coming through!" He looked up to see a tall dead male chef come through the crowd carrying a disembodied head which appeared to be the speaker. The chef carefully angled the tray to slide the head off onto the bar where little beetle legs from his severed neck carried him towards them. "My name is Paul," he said in a French accent. "I am ze head waiter," he said, giving a short laugh that sounded like a young donkey braying.

Despite how rude it was –and how silly he probably looked at that moment- Victor openly gaped, opening his eyes as wide as they could go as he stared at the impossible sight. He knew his mouth was also hanging open in shock.

"I will be creating your wedding feast," the head-uh- Paul said enthusiastically.

Victor turned quickly to look at the Bride who was the only possible person this head-uh-Paul could be talking about, and her was just in time to see her right eye pop out and a green maggot stick it's head out and say, "Wedding feast! I'm salivating!"

Victor gasped, pulling away from her slightly.

The Bride covered her missing eye and the maggot, saying, "Maggots," like that explained everything - or that she was a little embarrassed by it's behavior - and laughing somewhat uneasily.

"Oh!" Victor exclaimed stumbling back colliding with another body, turning to see that it was another corpse that seemed to have had the top if his skull sawed off and replaced, and who seemed to have little tendrils of tree roots dangling from his right eye socket.

He backed away quickly from this corpse as well and walking backwards for several steps before catching his elbow on a skeleton's arm and exclaiming, "Keep away!" as he stumbled before falling at the foot of the table with the two skeleton army people were.

Jumping up quickly, glancing at the surrounding dead people and seeing the sword sticking out of the French army skeleton, tried to pull it out, instead picking the skeleton up along with the sword and brandishing them both at the crowd.

"I've got a-- I've got a--" he began, pausing when he saw the skeleton still attached, "dwarf," he blinked. "And I'm not afraid to use him. I want some questions. Now!"

"Answers," the dwarf skeleton said, "I think you mean 'answers'."

"Thank you, yes, answers," he replied, accepting the correction with all the grace of a gentleman despite the situation, before turning his attention back to the crowd. "I need answers! What's going on here? Where am I?" Looking at the bride, "Who are you?"

"Well," she began, clasping her hands together and looking down briefly, "that's kind of a long story."

"And what a story it is," another voice said, drawing Victor's attention to a skeleton with a massively oversized jaw bone, bowling hat and one eye, standing on a stage, leaning against a wall. "A tragic tale of romance, passion... and a murder most foul," he said, being very expressive with his hands with each of the three words.

"This is gonna be good," the dwarf told Victor eagerly, startling the breathing boy into letting go of the sword hilt and dropping him.

The skeleton broke into a song, telling how the bride had been a beautiful girl tricked by a handsome stranger. She had believed they were going to run away together and get married, but the man had stolen the jewels and gold she had brought with her and murdered her, leaving her to wait under the old oak tree for her true love to come and free her.

Which, Victor realized, was exactly where he had found her.

While informative – and entertaining – the song also provided Victor with an opportunity to escape.

He darted out of the pub while all the corpses were enjoying the music, only to discover he was in a whole town of corpses. When he heard the bride calling for him, he managed to hide behind a statue of a skeleton horse in what appeared to be the town square.

This resulted in Victor running away from the bride and trying to avoid her long enough to find his way out of this place.

At one point, a spider had even spoken to him. He had bapped it away and now felt rather badly about doing so.

Finally, he ran into a dead end, but, hearing the bride's voice behind him, he started climbing the sheer face of the wall that was in his way.

He reached the top with some difficulty, grabbing the bars of a railing to help him up, reaching forward, he grabbed what he then recognized was a leg bone.

Looking up, he realized it was _her_ leg bone.

"Could have used the stairs silly," the bride said, grabbing hold of his right upper arm and helping him over the railing.

"Isn't the view _beautiful_?" she asked, spinning in a circle. "It takes my breath away." She started walking away, adding almost as an afterthought, "Well, it would if I had any." She chuckled lightly.

"Isn't it _romantic_?" she sighed sitting down on a dilapidated bench that looked as if it had once been a coffin.

Victor sat beside her, exhaling slightly in defeat and acceptance that he wouldn't be able to avoid or run away from her.

"Look, I am terribly sorry for what's happened to you… and I'd like to help, but I really _need_ to get home," he told the bride, trying instead to make her understand that he wasn't supposed to be here.

"This is your home now," the bride said, like that explained everything, glancing over the town beyond the cliff ledge, obviously not understanding what he was trying to imply.

"But I don't even know your name," Victor told her, hoping she would see how he couldn't stay with a wife he didn't even know the name of.

She gave a single silent laugh, as if just realizing that she had never told it to him, then stopped, glancing away as if hearing something before whispering to herself, "Shhh! Shut up!" as she placed her hands on her head briefly.

Victor looked at her, wondering if perhaps her brain was rotting and she was hearing voices.

"It's Emily," she told him with a smile.

"Emily," he repeated softly, wondering why the name fell so lightly from his lips.

"Oh, I almost forgot! I have something for you," the bride-Emily said in a lightly surprised voice, reaching under the bench and pulling out a slightly decayed looking box with a ragged bow on top, setting it in his lap. She cupped one hand around her mouth and gave a half smile as she whispered to him, like it was a secret, "It's a wedding present."

She clasped her hands in front of her and watched him eagerly.

Well, it would be impolite not to open it.

Victor picked it up and holding it close to his ear, gave it a couple gentle shakes, trying to determine what was in the box. Giving up on guessing, he placed it back in his lap and pulled the top off and gasped, seeing a pile of bones inside. Still, it would be rude to say he didn't like it. "Thank you," he said, picking up a bone briefly.

The entire box began to shake in his lap and he quickly dropped the bone back in, replacing the lid firmly on the box and trying to hold it on.

The box jumped out of his hands, contents spilling on the ground, and them assembling themselves into… a skeleton dog?

The tiny creature barked happily and picked up a strip of red cloth that had been in the box with it, bringing it proudly to Victor.

Victor reached hesitantly towards it and took the cloth, which on closer inspection now resembled an old collar. In fact it looked just like the collar that had been on…

"Scraps…?" he asked, uncertainly, until the little skeleton barked cheerfully. "Scraps! My dog Scraps!" he exclaimed, letting the dog jump up into his lap, giving him a little hug, scratching his skull, and putting the collar around his little skeleton neck. "Oh, Scraps, what a good boy," he said, taking the dog's little jaw in hand and giving it a gentle shake like he used to do.

Scraps jumped down from his lap, running once around in a tight circle and facing him again.

"I knew you'd be happy to see him," Emily said happily.

"Who's my good boy? Sit. Sit, Scraps, sit," Victor ordered, watching as his dog obeyed his commands as eagerly now as when he was alive. "Good boy, Scraps. Roll over. Roll over," Victor continued, moving a finger in a circle as he ordered it.

Scraps did as he was told, rolling over obediently, but his skull seemed to stay on one place as the rest of him preformed the trick.

"Good boy, Scraps," Victor cheered and said, "Play dead."

Scraps looked at him a little oddly until Victor realized what he had just said.

"Sorry," he half muttered, a little embarrassed for telling a dead dog to play dead.

Scraps jumped back up on the bench with them, going over to investigate Emily. She cupped his little skull in her hands, saying, "Oh, what a cutie."

"You should have seen him with fur," Victor replied, scratching the point where Scraps' tail met his spine, which had been his favorite itchy spot when he had been alive, causing Scraps' leg to twitch in delight. His mother had always yelled at him for paying too much attention to the dog.

"Mother never approved of Scraps jumping up like this," he told Emily, looking away as he remembered her opinion of the dog. "But then again," he added, "she never approved of anything."

"Do you think she would have approved of me?" Emily asked softly, looking a little curious and hopeful.

Victor let out a light bark of a laugh, imagining what his mother would have called Emily. "You're lucky you'll never have to meet her," he said.

Wait a moment… maybe…

"Well, actually… now that you mention it, I think you should," Victor said, setting Scraps down.

"Hmm."  
"In fact," he continued, rising to his feet and walking over to the railing on the cliff, "since we're, you know… married you should definitely meet her." He turned to see her. "And my father too. We should go and see them right now," he suggested.

"Oh, what a fantastic idea! Where are they buried?" she replied, standing up and walking over to him, glancing around the town below them, obviously looking forward to meeting her husbands' parents.

Victor turned away from her uneasily.

"What?" she asked. "What is it?"

"They're not from around here," he told her delicately, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"Where are they?" she inquired.

Victor pointed up.

"Oh, they're still alive," she realized.

"I'm afraid so," he replied.

"Well, that is a problem," Emily mused.

Scraps barked excitedly, drawing her attention down to the dog. "What's that, Scraps?" she asked, going down on one knee as if to hear it better as it barked again. "Oh, no, we couldn't possibly," she replied. It barked again. "Oh, well," she said thoughtfully, standing back up, "if you put it like that."

"What?" Victor inquired, wondering what Scraps had told her to change her mind.

"Elder Gutknecht," Emily told him in a hushed whisper.


	4. Secret Meetings

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of The Corpse Bride. This fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter Four: Secret Meetings

The talk with Elder Gutknecht had gone better than Victor expected. The way Emily had spoke his name had made him a little anxious about meeting him, but he had turned out to be a very old and kindly skeleton. Someone you could easily imagine as being a grandfather. It had only taken a little persuading on Emily's part to get him to cast a Ukrainian Haunting Spell on them to take them up to the Land of the Living.

Victor watched nervously as he watched to smoke from the crows' egg descend over them like a cloud, barely keeping himself from fidgeting as it passed over them, but relieved when, as it dispersed, he could see the familiar trees of the forest outside of his town.

He heard Emily give a soft exhalation of breath.

He turned to see that she was looking up at the sky with a pained dreamy expression.

"I spent so long in the darkness… I'd almost _forgotten_ how _beautiful_ the moonlight is," she whispered softly, gazing at the moon wistfully.

She turned her attention to a delicate moth fluttering by, giving a little giggle as she watched it fly in front the moon.

She closed her eyes as she sighed, stepping forward like she could not longer restrain herself, twirling gracefully in a circle before drifting back to Victor and circling around him, trailing one arm around him as she moved without actually touching him.

For a brief moment, Victor wanted to lean into her touch and twirl her around until she was breathless.

He turned his eyes away from her hypnotic beauty as he shook his head to clear his thoughts.

She was a corpse, he reminded himself. A corpse!

But she was so kind. He hated tricking her, but he had to speak to Victoria. If nothing else, he had to free her from their intended marriage.

He turned to see Emily apparently posing in the moonlight, looking uncertain for a moment before she continued her dance, gliding to a tree and swinging around it with her good arm before coming back to him and circling around him again, moving so gracefully it was like she floated over the ground instead of walked on it.

He took hold of his shoulders –horrified to note that he didn't find such an act unpleasant- allowing himself a brief moment of fulfilling his momentary fantasy, spinning her around in a wide circle before saying "Hold on, hold on," and sitting her down on a tombstone.

"I think I should… prepare… Mother and Father for the big news," he told her, scratching his neck anxiously, "I'll go ahead and you… wait here."

"Perfect," she sighed.

"I won't be long," Victor reassured her. "Stay right here. I'll be right back," he said, starting to leave.

"Okay," she replied amiably, turning her head back to the sky, gazing at the moon, taking in the sights of he forest with interest.

Victor dashed back to her. "No peeking," he ordered her gently.

She covered her mouth, giggled lightly at his antics.

Victor took the chance to quickly run back to town before she might change her mind.

At first he went to the front door of the Everglot family mansion, but heard through the door the Lord and Lady threatening to strangle him. So, going around the back, he found Victoria's balcony and carefully climbed up one of the pillars supporting it, something, he realized, he would never have done if he hadn't just climbed a sheer wall an hour before which made this look easy. Reaching the top, he pulled himself over the banister railing, his hand abruptly slipping and falling onto the floor. He quickly stood up, brushing himself off briefly and knocked on the glass doors that led into her room.

She walked over to the doors rather quickly for a lady in a corset and opened the door for him.

He ducked inside, closing the door quickly behind him, leaning against the windows and panting slightly, not quite believing he had made it here without Emily catching him and dragging him away.

Again.

"Victoria," he said, opening his eyes and looking at the young lady in front of him.

"Victor?" she asked, like she couldn't believe it was him for a moment. " I'm so happy to see you!" She took his hand gently, leading him over to the fireplace and ordering him, "Come by the fire." She gestured for him to sit and he did, appreciating the warmth his closer proximity to the fire brought to his body.

"Where have you been?" she asked him, concerned, "Are you all right?"

"I-- I -- oh dear," Victor sighs, glancing down and away, looking back up at her.

"You're as cold as death," Victoria gasped, touching his hand with a light finger, "What's happened to you?" she inquired, gesturing at him, "Your coat…"

Victor absently brushed at a tear in his jacket, feeling like he should feel self-conscious to be before her in such shabby clothing, but not really managing to actually be it.

"Victoria, I -- I confess," he sighed. "I've had an… experience. This morning, I was terrified of marriage. Then, on meeting you, I felt that, perhaps, it wouldn't be horrible. We… get along well and have some interests that we share. But now, now I realize that that isn't enough of a reason to get married."

Victoria gasped, hands flying to her mouth in joy, "Does that mean…"

"I don't care how difficult it will be, but I'm going to make sure you won't have to marry me," he told her. "You should marry the person you love."

Victoria jumped up and hugged him in delight.

Victor relaxed into the hug, happy he had managed to get here to have this talk with Victoria.

Then he saw Emily pulling herself up onto the banister, gasping at the sight, knowing that he was about to be taken back to the Land of the Dead.

Victoria jumped at his gasp and started to turn her head to see what had startled him

Victor quickly caught her head in his hands, keeping her from looking.

The least he could do was try to help her not to get too frightened when she saw Emily, as it now seemed inevitable.

"I seem to find myself married," he told her without preamble, hoping to explain enough to her before Emily came in. "And you should know it's unexpected."

The doors slammed open behind Victoria causing a rush of wind to gust against them, causing them both to jump up and face the balcony doors.

She walked in struggling briefly to get her veil out of her face saying, "My darling, I just wanted to meet--" she pushed aside her veil and gasped.

Victoria stiffened, obviously a little frightened by this strange woman in the tattered wedding dress.

Victor glanced between the two of them, dreading what he somehow knew was coming next.

"Darling?" Emily asked taking Victor's arm and pulling him closer to her, smiling questioningly, "Who's this?"

"Who is she?" Victoria asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"_I'm_ his _wife_," Emily declared proudly, showing Victoria her skeleton hand with the wedding band on it.

"Victor?" Victoria asked, looking at him. Emily released his arm and crossed her own arms smugly, watching Victoria.

"Victoria, wait. You don't understand," Victor said, taking Emily's skeletal arm and waving it at her. "She's dead. Look," he said, pointing at the skeletal hand.

Emily pulled her arm out of his grip angrily, drifting back to the open balcony doors, glaring at him.

"Hopscotch," she whispered, looking quite frightening at the moment, reaching forward and grabbing Victor's arm, pulling him firmly to her, retreating with him out the balcony doors, flying backwards as the magic took them back to the Land of the Dead in a flurry of flying crows, despite his cry of "No!"


	5. This Can't Work

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of The Corpse Bride. This fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter Five: This Can't Work

The crows parted, revealing Elder Gutknecht's book filled study.

Emily looked just as frightening for another moment before her face relaxed into just being angry.

"You _lied_ to me!" she accused him, pushing him back from her. "Just to get back to that other woman," she said jerking her up and to the side to indicate Victoria.

"You don't understand. She's just my friend. But even if she were more, _you_ would be the other woman," replied, trying to make her understand the situation.

"No! You're married to _me_," she said, pointing to herself, then raising one arm to point up. "_She's_ the other woman," she sobbed, turning away from him and bringing her hands up to her face, crying into them.

Victor reached out automatically to comfort her, halting when he heard Elder Gutknecht's slight cough.

"She's got a point," the old skeleton noted.

"And I thought…" Emily sobbed, dabbing at her eyes with a bit of her wedding dress, "I thought this was all going so _well_," she cried, her eye popping out.

It hit the ground and rolled down a crack to bump against his foot. He picked it up, wondering when he had stopped being creeped out by decaying body parts falling off.

"Look, I'm sorry, but…" he said, pausing as he polished her eye lightly on his jacket, "this just can't work."

He handed the eye back to her and she held it in front of her for a moment, still not facing him.

"Why not?" she asked, voice still broken, then sighing sadly. "It's my eye, isn't it?"

"No. You're eye is…lovely," he said, surprised to find himself meaning it. "Listen, under different circumstances, well, who knows? But we're just too different. I mean, you're _dead_," he explained, looking at her pointedly. She had turned around and was watching him, eye back in place.

"You should've thought about that before you asked me to marry you," she told him, seeming to have calmed down a little but still sounding depressed.

"Why can't you understand it was a mistake?" he asked, "I would _never_ marry you."

Emily didn't cry at that, looking instead incredibly hurt.

Victor was startled at how much saying that sentence had caused his heart to hurt. Like he had just stabbed a knife into it.

Emily looked away and sighed, turning and walking silently away from him without another word and going down the steps sadly.

Victor wanted to run up to her and apologize profusely, but thought that it might be best like this, sighing unhappily to himself as he watched her disappear down the steps.


	6. The Piano Duet

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of The Corpse Bride. This fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter Six: The Piano Duet

It had taken a few hours of wandering the streets of the Dead town, before he figured that, better or not, he couldn't leave Emily so unhappy.

He reasoned that it was pity for her. How could he add one more heartache on her already tragedy strewn existence?

Finding her turned out to not be difficult at all.

His feet seemed to lead her automatically to her, bringing him to the Ball and Socket Lounge.

Scraps was pacing outside of the establishment, holding Emily's bouquet in his jaws. When the dog saw his master, he jumped up the couple stairs and laid the bouquet on the ground, obviously expecting Victor to see Emily and fix things with her.

Victor sighed, reaching down and picking up the flowers and walking into the pub.

Emily was sitting at the piano playing a simple, somber melody with one hand. Despite the songs' simplicity, as Victor walked up behind her, he could tell that she was a talented pianist. The way she rolled her hand slightly to reach different keys betrayed years of playing.

"I… think you dropped this," he said, presenting the bouquet to her. When she didn't reach for it, he gently set it on the cushions that served for the piano top, before turning to go.

He stopped before he took a single step, sighing deeply and turning back to her.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I'm sorry I lied to you about wanting to see my parents. It's just this whole day hasn't gone quite, well…" he sighed again, sitting down on the piano bench next to her, "…according to plan."

Emily hadn't given any indication she had heard him, still playing a deep and somber melody.

Victor waited for her pause and played a simple, higher counterpoint to her melody, bringing a cheerfulness to the song.

Emily glanced at him, still obviously angry, then played another deep, soulfully sad chord.

He repeated it back to her in the higher notes, bringing his other hand up to the keyboard and adding a little more acoustic depth and complexity to the piece.

She glanced at him, but brought her other hand up and played the next part with even more sorrow and sadness, bringing the song back down and ending it on a slightly gloomy note.

Victor considered for a moment, allowing her last note to linger for a second before he continued the melody on the higher notes, speeding up the tempo and making it lighter, then paused, leaving an open intro for her, waiting for her to make her musical response.

She turned away from him and rested her head on her hand, pointedly ignoring him, but he was sure she was giving him a dirty look.

He sighed, then continued the melody making it even more complex. He played another chord and left another intro for her to join him.

Still, she ignored him.

Frowning now, he started a new chord, but was surprised when he was barely a few notes in and she joined him mid chord, bringing the lower notes of the piano into play as a counterpoint to his cheerful melody.

It was beautiful. The way only two people who love the piano can make it while playing a duet.

He smiled.

He had always been better at expressing his feelings via music, and, playing with her, he somehow managed to get his apology across as she first looked at him daringly, then smiled at him, continuing with the music, bringing her end into the higher notes.

He heard her gasp as her skeletal hand detached from the wrist, following the scale up as it 'walked' on two fingers across the piano keys and twirled in a circle on two keys before walking up his arm, across her shoulders, and onto his other arm.

He gave a light laugh as he caught it on one of its 'jumps' and brought it back to her.

She giggled softly, "Pardon my enthusiasm."

"I like your enthusiasm," he replied, putting her hand back onto her arm, not really minding the crack as it reconnected, keeping hold of it even after it was reattached.

A sudden clanging caused them both to jump, turning to see what the ruckus was about.

"New arrival! New arrival!" Ms. Plum exclaimed excitedly.

After that, everything got hectic very quickly. Corpses filled the pub remarkably quickly and in no time at all it was almost impossible to tell what was going on in the Lounge.

He did manage to hear Miss Plum pushing her way through the crowd, yelling, "Welcoming committee, coming through Coming through!" He saw her stop at someone and pat their hand. He was too far away to hear what she was saying now that she wan't bellowing, but he did recognize that orange coat.

"Mayhew?" he asked, more to himself than the man who owned that name.

He quickly stood up and walked over to him, exclaiming, "Mayhew! How nice to see--" he cut off and gasped when Mayhew turned around.

He was obviously dead, displaying the blue skin that all dead people appeared to have. Judging by the looks of things, he seemed to have been run over by a carriage.

Mayhew looked a little surprised to see him as well. Probably because he was alive in the Land of the Dead.

"I'm so sorry," Victor consoled him.

"Oh, yeah. Actually, though, I feel great," Mayhew replied, stretching and taking a deep breath.

"Hurry up, boys. Can you not see the gentleman is parched?" Paul said directing his bugs. They poured a glass of poisonous looking liquid and bringing it to Mayhew, who sipped on it quickly.

"Mayhew, I have to get back," Victor told him, "They all must be worried sick. How is everyone?"

"Well, they're still wondering where you slipped off to," he said pointing his glass at him. "Oh, and uh… Miss Victoria…"

"Yes?" Victor asked.

"Well, she's getting married this evening," his ex-coachman hedged.

"Oh good," Victor responded.

Evidently this wasn't what Mayhew had been expecting as he blinked and asked him, "You're not upset?"  
"Why should I be? I told her to marry the man she loves," Victor told him. "She told me she's been in love with someone from the village for years."

"Oh, but this is a new comer," Mayhew informed him. "Lord Somebody-or-Other. She's not too happy about it either."

"What? But…"

"Yeah, with you gone and all… I guess they didn't approve and didn't want to waste the cake," Mayhew said, trying for a laugh, but failing miserably.

Victor looked down.

So he'd released her from their arranged marriage only to have her pushed into another.

He shook his head, walking out of the pub slowly.

He heard Emily asking him where he was going but didn't answer her, even though he knew he should.

He needed to think.

A/N: It was surprisingly easy to write the piano duet scene, but I know _nothing_ on playing the piano, so please forgive me if I got the terms wrong. If you know the correct terms, leave a review telling me what they should be and I'll fix it. I included the duet because, even though nothing from it was different from the movie, I felt it was important to explain Victor's thoughts during it. If you've never heard their duet, you don't know what you're missing. It's one of the most beautiful pieces of music I've heard, and I love classical music. I was only disappointed that it wasn't longer.

Sigh

Oh well.


	7. Hit In The Head With A Hammer

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of The Corpse Bride. This fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter Seven: Hit In The Head With A Hammer

Victor didn't know how long he had wandered the streets this time. Several hours he supposed.

Victoria was now probably getting ready to marry whomever her parents had replaced him with.

True love, it appeared, didn't guarantee a happily ever after.

Had he caused her more problems by visiting her when he snuck away from Emily? Had his words only given her a false hope? Made it all that much crueler when she was forced to marry the Lord her parents had chosen?

His wanderings had brought him to the coffin supply behind the Ball and Socket Lounge. He sat down on one of the coffins, idly wondering why doing so didn't frighten him or make him feel uneasy.

He supposed when one has been surrounded by the walking dead for well over a day, one would get a little desensitized to matters of the grave.

It probably didn't help that he hadn't slept in going on forty eight hours, since the night before he met Victoria.

He was exhausted.

Victor closed his eyes, leaned back against a coffin, propped his head against another, and was asleep before he even realized it.

For the first time in four years, he didn't dream of the crying girl.

Instead, he dreamt of Emily.

He woke with a start, wincing at the crick in his neck from falling asleep in such an odd position. He rubbed at it, trying to ease the knot that had formed in his muscles when he heard Emily.

"Oh, Miss Plum, what am I to do?" she asked. "He just walked off without saying a word. Are all men like this?"

Victor sneaked up to the door to the kitchen, where her voice seemed to be coming from, opening the door a little so he could see what was happening inside.

It was Emily, speaking to Ms. Plum who appeared to be wiping down some kitchen utensils. Another cook with knives sticking out of his back was stirring a pot over the green fire.

"Well, I'm afraid none of them are very bright," Ms. Plum commented. "They get something stuck in their heads and you can't do a thing with them," she remarked, pulling a knife out of the other cooks head and wiping it off with a rag.

Victor wondered when that knife had gone through that particular cooks' head, since the last time he had seen him, he was pretty sure it hadn't been there.

Then he wondered why seeing a knife through someone's head no longer seemed strange.

Elder Gutknecht came into the kitchen from what Victor assumed to be the bar, carrying an open book that was big enough to look like it was going to break the old man's thin bones.

"My dear," he said, setting the book on the table, "we have to talk."

"Let me tell her, please. Let me tell her," the maggot said, popping his head out from the pages of the book and laughing an evil sounding chuckle.

"What?" Emily asked.

"There is a complication with your marriage," the elder told her.

"I don't understand," she said softly.

"The vows are binding only until death do you part," he informed her.

"What are you saying?" Emily inquired in a soft voice, obviously not understanding what the elder was trying to tell her.

"Death has already parted you," the elder stated.

Emily gasped, looking like she'd been hit by a wagon.

Victor appreciated how she felt, as he was feeling the same.

He could go _home_. Nothing bound him here anymore.

But… did he want to?

He was happy here.

It was like suddenly realizing you didn't _have_ to hit yourself in the head with a hammer.

Why should he go back?

To listen to his parents bicker and complain, listen to them trying to claw their way up into high society no matter whose life they ruined? Or to that dull world where everything in life was predetermined by your place of birth?

"If he finds out, he'll leave," Emily said to herself, making Victor feel ashamed that that had indeed been his first thought on hearing the news.

"There must be something you can do," she pleaded with the elder.

"Well, there is one way," the elder hedged.

"Oh, please, please, let me tell her," the maggot begged.

"It requires the greatest sacrifice," the elder continued, like he hadn't really noticed the maggot.

"Go on, get to the good part," the maggot said.

"What is it?" Emily asked.

The maggot laughed again, telling her, "We have to _kill_ him!"

"What?" Emily gasped.

Victor did as well, making sure to keep it silent so as not to alert them to his presence.

Deciding to stay in the Land of the Dead was one thing. Being forced to _die _was another.

"Victor would have to give up the life he had forever. He would need to repeat his vows in the Land of the Living and drink from the wine of ages," the elder continued.

"Poison," Emily gasped in a light sob, turning away from Victor's view to face the fire.

"This would stop his heart forever. Only then would he be free to give it to you," the elder finished, walking around the table

He pulled back, edging away from the door, but paused. For some reason he felt he needed to hear a little more. What would Emily say?

"I could never ask him," she said sadly, collapsing to her knees in dejection.

If she had said anything else, Victor was sure he would have run.

But she didn't. She was willing to give up her chance at happiness for his.

It was that very moment that Victor realized he loved her.

He opened the door and walked into the room.

"You don't have to," he told her.

She gasped, looking up at him in shock.

"I'll do it," he whispered to her.

"My boy," the elder said, drawing his attention, "if you chose this path you may never return to the world above. Do you understand?"

Victor took a breath, turning to Emily and helping her up.

"I do," he said softly, clasping Emily's hand.

He had never realized he'd never been happy until he saw her smile.


	8. Getting Ready

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of The Corpse Bride. This fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only.

A/N: WOW! 8 reviews in less than 24 hours! I think that's a speed record for me! Thank you to all who reviewed. Here are some comments back:

dudei'mlikesobus- (cool name by the way) I read your bio and saw that you also like Pokemon with Ash and Misty romance. If you want, you might want to check out my story "The Ashy Merman". I think you might like it. I have a sequel planned, but I haven't started writing it yet.

Deyinel- I have read your story and I did, indeed, enjoy it. As for your comment about my not needing to change lines, I feel I should elucidate something I may not have clearly explained before. This is a story _re-write_. I'm changing the dialogue some because the story isn't the same as in the movie. This story will not have the same ending _because_ of the changes I'm making in the story. All the dialogue and scene changes have a reason in this story because in some way they explain a reason or change the perceived opinion of the story flow. I'm doing a whole story re-write because, while I LOVE Victor/Emily pairings, I kind of like Victoria and don't want to see her destitute and alone, so I added her being in love with someone else in the beginning of the story, both to give her someone else to love, and to give Victor a reason to not feel bad about _not_ loving her, allowing the character to think more about Emily without feeling like he was betraying his betrothed. In the movie it was obvious that this feeling was a large factor in Victor's confusion and indecision between his two brides. Furthermore, by doing an entire re-write, I can show how Victor has been slowly changing throughout the story, something the movie did, but could have done better. I feel all these things will help make the ending I have in mind _feel_ better to those reading it, so they won't have to feel sorry for any character. I also agree with you that I don't have to stop this story at the movie ending. Since I have developed the characters so much, I very well may continue this story past the end of the movie, but first, I'm finishing _this_ story before I decide if I'll add more.

NaviTheInsane and Queen B of Randomness 016- grins Thank you! P.S. to Queen B, I like black too! Black and purple are my favorite colors!

griffin-queen-of-silver-ski...- I am planning on finishing this story. I can't believe how fast I'm writing this! I only started writing this about five days ago and I'm almost done already! I agree that the movie should have been Victor/Emily and that's why I'm writing this!

MagicalGirl23- Thank you! I was so disappointed at the end of the movie I felt like crying, so I knew I had to re-write the movie into a version I thought was better. I'm so GLAD you like my story! The ending will be posted very soon as I'm almost finished with the story! sigh I still wish Danny Elfman had written more of the duet though.

Cheshire3324- Thank you! I'll be to the wedding soon pretty quickly. Please keep reading!

Timmy22222001-squealing happily MY FIRST CORPSE BRIDE REVIEWER! doing a happy dance before straightening back into a dignified girl (yeah, right) Thank you! I'm almost done with the story!

Chapter Eight: Getting Ready

The announcement of the Corpse Bride's wedding caused a big commotion.

Victor escorted his bride to the horse skeleton statue in the town square and, climbing up beside it, set Emily in its saddle, noticing that the skeleton was an _actual_ skeleton when the horse turned and knickered at him.

He turned to the assembled crowd.

"Gather round! Gather round everybody," he called. "We've decided to do this thing properly. So grab what you can and follow us. We're moving this wedding party _upstairs_," he announced proudly.

This seemed to get everyone very excited as they began to scatter to follow his directions.

He helped Emily down from the horse and block and she was escorted away by a few ladies, no doubt to prepare her for her wedding.

He jumped down from the block the horse stood on and was about to walk away when a high female voice said, "Hold on, Victor."

He turned his head and noticed it was the spider he had knocked away when he was running away from Emily.

Had it only been yesterday?

"About yesterday," he began.

"Don't worry about it," she replied, obviously no longer feeling offended. "But you can't get married looking like _that_," she pointed out, bringing two legs to her mouth and letting out a whistle.

Six more spiders dropped down by his shoulders and started climbing all over him.

He laughed as their legs tickled him.

Quickly they started mending the rips in his clothes, singing a song as they worked.

_The spiders think you're very cute_

_And goodness knows you need a suit_

_And have no fears, we're quite adept_

_We'll have you looking lovely, lovely, lovely,_

_lovely, lovely, lovely, lovely, lovely yet._

_A little stitch, a little tuck_

_Some tender loving care_

_A little thread will fix you up_

_And we've got plenty as you see_

_And personally guarantee_

_Our quality repairs._

_A little here, I'll fix the mess_

_We're going to do our very best_

_When everybody sees you_

_They will all be quite impressed._

_They will all be quite impressed._

When they finished their work, which was very well done Vincent noted, they disappeared as quickly as they had appeared, retracting back up on threads of string.

He barely had enough time to wonder where they were going before he was being pulled aside himself by some of the men.

A/N: I'm skipping the rest of the song up till when Emily came down the stairs. I will not include further lyrics, I only included them in the spider scene since it's a little hard describe spiders sewing, so I left the lyrics to explain for me.

The next thing he knew, Emily was walking stately down a small stairway carrying her bouquet, waiting at the bottom for the spiders to lower her wedding veil down onto her head. Once this was done, she started twirling around gracefully.

Victor couldn't help but stare, awed by how beautiful she was.

He barely noticed the barber come up next to him, remove a pair of scissors that had been embedded in his head, and snip away a stray piece of his hair that was lying out of place, before he was more or less drug away since his legs didn't seem to be working.

Together, in a congregation, they all made their way to Elder Gutknecht's tower to go to the Land of the Living.

A/N: I'm ending the chapter here because I have no idea _how_ a couple dozen corpses got to the Land of the Living.


	9. Broken Ceremony

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of The Corpse Bride. This fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter Nine: Broken Ceremony

The group of corpses made their way to the church, more or less ignoring Pastor Galswells cries of "Unholy demons!"

It took only a moment for Elder Gutknecht to set up the few things he had brought with him. A gold goblet and a red bottle.

Everyone quickly settled into their seats.

Victor heard the organ begin to play the traditional "Wedding March" song and he turned back to look at his bride.

The little boy and girl skeleton walked up the aisle in front of her, strewing dried flower petals as they went.

Behind them, Emily walked gracefully down the aisle, smiling up at Victor.

Victor knew he was staring, knew he probably looked pretty dumb too, but he didn't care. He just watched as she came down the aisle to join him at the altar. He extended his hand and escorted her up the step that brought her before the altar.

She smiled shyly at him before directing her attention to the Elder.

"Dearly beloved and departed, we are gathered here today to join this man and this corpse in marriage," Elder Gutknecht told all assembled. "Living first," he said, motioning for Victor to speak.

Victor turned to face Emily, raising his left hand and beginning, "With this hand I will lift your sorrows." He picked up the goblet and presented it to her, "Your cup will never empty for I will be your wine."

He had never meant anything more.

"Now you," Elder Gutknecht motioned to Emily.

For a long moment, Emily stared at him, like she couldn't believe he had actually done it.

"With this hand," she said, tears in her eyes, "I will lift your sorrows."

She picked up the bottle.

"Your cup will never empty," she continued, pouring the poisoned wine into the goblet he was holding, "for I will be…-"

She suddenly cut off, looking startled.

"I will be…" she stammered, sounding uncertain.

"Go on, my dear," the elder gently urged her.

"Your cup…will never empty…" she said, eyes drifting to somewhere behind Victor, making him wonder what had disturbed her, "…for I will be…"

She paused again.

"I will be your wine," Victor supplied for her, closing his eyes and raising the goblet to his lips…

Only to feel it pushed back down by Emily.

He looked at her, lowering it, wondering what was troubling her now of all times.

"She's having second thoughts," he heard someone whisper, and he wondered if it was true.

Emily looked away briefly, sighing in defeat. "I can't," she whispered, looking back at him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, starting to turn to see what had disturbed her.

She placed her hand on his face and turned it back to her. "This is wrong," she said, voice breaking slightly. "I was a bride," she whispered to him. "My dreams were taken from me. Well, now… now I've stolen them from someone else," she cried, tears running down her cheeks.

"I love you Victor," she told him. "But you're not mine," she sobbed.

Her hand slipped away from his face, beckoning someone forward from the shadows behind him.

He turned and saw…

"Victoria?" he asked, confused.

She was wearing her wedding dress. She came forward at Emily's gesture to stand beside him.

Emily took Victor's hand and placed it on Victoria's.

Now Victoria looked confused.

"Wait, you don't understand," she began, but was interrupted by a different voice.

"Oh, how touching," a voice sneered.


	10. The Revenge of Love

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of The Corpse Bride. This fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter Ten: The Revenge of Love

Victor turned to see the man who had been at his wedding rehearsal with Victoria come into the church, wiping a fake tear away from his eye. "I always cry at weddings," he fake congratulated them.

Victoria gasped and hid behind him.

"Our young lovers together at last," the man continued, walking up to aisle towards them. "Surely now they can live happily ever after," he stated.

Barkis came to stand before Victor, holding up a finger, "But you forget," he said, "she's still my wife!" he yelled yanking Victoria roughly out from behind him. "I'll not leave here empty-handed!" he declared.

"You?" Emily whispered, obviously surprised.

Barkis looked at her and visibly gulped. "Emily?" he asked, suddenly sounding uncertain.

"You!" Emily repeated, accusing him with one word.

"But -- But -- I left you," he stated, shocked.

"For dead," Emily replied, her voice a ghost of its former self, looking momentarily haunted by her memories.

Victor ignored the stunned gasps of the witnesses as he felt a cold fury fill him.

_This_ was the man that betrayed and murdered Emily? Who left her to pine for years to find her true love?

"This woman is obviously delusional," Barkis tried to defame her, backing away from the altar with Victoria held captive.

He saw Bonesapart and wrenched the sword free from his chest, holding the blade dangerously close to Victoria's throat.

"Sorry to cut things short," he sneered, "but we must be on our way."

No. Victor wouldn't let him kill another innocent bride.

"Take your hands off her," Victor ordered him, glaring at Barkis as he walked closer to the coward and his hostage.

"Do I have to kill you too?" Barkis asked, taking the sword from Victoria's throat and placing the point against Victor's jacket. Victor didn't move, didn't twitch.

So what if Barkis ran him through? He was still planning on joining Emily in death. Did it really matter the manner how it was achieved?

Barkis suddenly screamed, jerking away, letting the sword fall a little to the side.

Apparently, Scraps had taken the opportunity to bite Barkis' leg.

Victoria took the opportunity to run away from her dangerous husband.

"Victor, catch!" Miss Plum yelled, pulling something from the other chef's back and throwing it to him.

Victor caught it, but was startled to see it was a serving fork instead of a knife.

"Sorry," Miss Plum apologized somewhat sheepishly.

Barkis swung viscously at Victor, but Victor managed to deflect it with the side of the fork, which gave Victor a few precious seconds to dodge out of the way of the next strike and making Barkis stumble forward into the altar. The evil lord recovered quickly and charged toward him again, continually striking at him with the stolen sword. Victor backed into a stone pillar, barely ducking another swing that would have taken his head off and darting around the pillar to stab Barkis in the thigh with the rather sharp fork tines. Barkis yelped, straightening and slapping one hand over the injury before spinning around, swiping at two corpses who were unlucky enough to be in the way, barely missing poor Paul and taking off the top of another cook's hat. The lord twisted around, hacking down at Victor with the sword but Victor somehow managed to keep catching the sword between the fork tines, forcing Barkis to withdraw the sword and try again.

"I say, you're not playing fair, sir," someone behind him said.

Victor dodged to the side to avoid being cleaved in two. Ducking under another of Barkis' wild swings, the sword lodged firmly in the wood of a pew. Barkis wrenched it free, but Victor managed to take a swipe at him with the fork, leaving three gashes in Barkis' waistcoat. Barkis swung at him again and Victor caught it in the fork tines and managed to duck under a pew when Barkis withdrew.

The sword started stabbing down through the relatively thin wood, Barkis evidently trying to impale Victor, but missing through chance. Victor took the opportunity to thrust his weapon up through one of the holes and managed to stab one of Barkis' feet, apparently causing him to fall off the pew and allowing Victor time to crawl out from beneath the pew.

He stood up but had the fork knocked away from him before he had time to ready himself, being quickly kicked in the stomach, back onto the dais by the altar.

Barkis held the sword tip in front of Victor's face but Victor only glared unwaveringly at him.

Barkis grinned pulling the sword back slightly and stabbing it forward.

And stuck it through Emily who had dashed between them in time to stop the sword from impaling him.

Barkis jerked back with a gasp, releasing the sword, apparently not used to stabbing dead people.

Victor supposed it was logical. When you had a sword through someone you gained both an advantage and a disadvantage. The advantage being that the person you had just impaled was usually in too much pain to make any type of retaliation; but the disadvantage being that it also left you open. If you didn't hit the right place, it would give the person stabbed the advantage of leverage to get the sword away from you and possibly use it on you.

And dead people couldn't be injured by being run through.

Victor scrambled out from behind her, stepping away to allow her the room to do whatever she wished to punish her murderer.

Emily glared at him, withdrawing the sword and holding it at Barkis.

"Touché, my dear," he smiled, gloating.

"Get out," Emily tells him in a cold voice.

Victor watched as Barkis circled her, absently pulling Victoria further away for her safety.

Barkis went to the altar and picked up the goblet of wine, "But first, a toast," he reveled. "To Emily," he said, raising the goblet in salute, "Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. Tell me, my dear," he continued, smoothing back his hair arrogantly. "Can a heart still break once it's stopped beating?" he asked.

Emily looks like she was about to cry, spurring Victor forward several steps before he realized something.

The wine…

The assembled corpses obviously felt the same as he as they had suddenly formed a small horde, looking like they were about to mob the black-hearted lord.

Elder Gutknecht barred their way with his weakened skeletal body.

The corpses had too much respect for him to trample over him.

"We must abide by their rules," he said, keeping his arms up to block the corpses from stampeding Barkis. "We are amongst the living," he reminded them.

"Well said," Barkis toasted them, drinking the wine. He sighed, throwing the goblet disrespectively to the side and walking away from them.

He only got to the door before he choked suddenly, bending over, clutching his chest and bracing himself against the door.

Victor couldn't help the surely evil looking smirk that he knew had formed on his lips, making him wonder if he didn't have a little mean streak somewhere in him.

"Not anymore," the maggot gloated.

Barkis turned to face them, gasping, face already blue.

"Yep. You're right. He's all yours," Elder Gutknecht said, letting the crowd pass unhindered.

Barkis frantically tried the door to escape the oncoming corpses, but as soon as he managed to do so, the dead pushed him inside, crowding around him.

"New arrival," Miss Plum said gleefully, holding the fork as she closed the door on Barkis' screams.

"Oh Victor," Victoria said, suddenly giving Victor a gentle hug and distracting him from his thoughts, "no one would believe me."

"You told people I had been kidnapped by a corpse?" he asked, surprised at her daring.

"You didn't seem like you wanted to go with her. It seemed to be the least I could do for you for releasing me from my parent's promise."

Victor couldn't help but smile, amazed that he had somehow managed to find such a good friend who was willing to be publicly called insane for his sake after just two brief meetings.

"Thank you," he said, kissing her cheek, "but-" he stopped, seeing Emily beginning to walk away from them.

"Wait!" he called, starting forward and grabbing hold of Emily's hand to halt her progress. "Where are you going?"

A/N: I'm not sure if 'disrespectively' is a real word or not, but it fit the sentence and I couldn't find another word that did as well. My apologies if it's not a real word.

This chapter is entitled what it is because I always felt that Emily facing Barkis was a big point of growth for her. He murdered her and she faced him down. The fact that he no longer frightened her proved that he no longer had power over her.


	11. For True Love Comes From Dreams

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of The Corpse Bride. This fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter Eleven: For True Love Comes From Dreams

Emily turned, smiling sadly at him, removing her hand gently from his grip.

"I made you a promise," he said, not understanding her actions.

She carefully removed his ring from her finger and placed it in his hand, wrapping his fingers around it with her own.

"You've _kept_ your promise," she told him. "You set me free. Now, I can do the same for you."

"What do you mean?" Victor asked, refusing to release their intertwined fingers, forcing her to stay there for another few moments to explain what she meant.

"You love each other," she said, glancing at Victoria. "I won't rob another bride of her groom."

Victor smiled, falling in love with Emily even more at her words.

He released her fingers and retrieved the ring, sliding it back on Emily's wedding-ring finger.

"The one I love is already wearing my ring," he told her.

She looked at him, obviously confused.

"Victoria and I were arranged to be married by our parents. Neither of us _wanted_ to get married, but we agreed we could be friends. We _don't love each other_," Victor explained. "She already loves someone else as well," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"As well…?" Emily repeated breathlessly.

"I wouldn't have agreed to marry you if I didn't love you," Victor replied, smoothing a stray strand of hair away from Emily's face in a soothing gesture, "I was already forced into almost marry one woman I didn't love; I wasn't about to marry another under the same condition." He cupped her cheek in his hand gently. "I only ask that I be allowed to search for someone," he said, "I made myself a promise that I'd find her. Help her."

"Her?" Emily asked, confused.

"I'll explain it all to you later, but you needn't worry. I don't think I'll ever be able to love anyone else as much as I love you," Victor reassured her, feeling quite bold at that moment.

Victor heard the church door being flung open and turned to see Vincent come running into the church.

"Vincent!" Victoria breathed, rushing over to meet him.

Victor stared as his younger brother lovingly embraced Victoria.

"You're in love with my brother?" he asked aloud, surprised.

Victoria turned to him and blushed, casting her eyes down in embarrassment.

Victor snickered, then started laughing at the improbability of it all.

"Take care of her Vincent," he told his brother when he had calmed down a moment later, "She's a good woman."

"Victor? Where've you been?" Vincent asked.

"Marrying a corpse," Victor replied, not being able to resist.

Vincent gaped at him and Victor broke down into gales of laughter, not being able to contain himself at his younger brother's expression.

"What is that?" Victoria's voice asked, bringing Victor out of his laughter.

Emily lifted her right hand up, showing that her wedding glove had been ripped during all the excitement and revealing something on her palm.

For a long moment, all thought ceased in Victor's head as he stared blankly at the strawberry-colored heart-shaped birthmark on Emily's right palm, barely hearing her say that it was a birthmark and how there was a legend about such birthmarks; that the people bearing them were destined to find their true love, who would have a mirror image mark, but that she had never found him.

His heart felt like bursting, but also like it was just going to stop so that moment could last forever, but time stands still for no one - though it may be slowed, Victor discovered - and soon the moment was over, leaving Victor with only one course of action.

He walked calmly over to the alter and tranquilly poured some wine into the empty goblet which had been replaced on the alter by Elder Gutknecht, raising it to his lips in a smooth motion and swallowing the entire contents before Emily even had time to realize what he was doing, not really caring that he was committing suicide in front of his own brother.

"_Victor!_" he heard her exclaim, feeling her rush to his side, presumably to stop him, but it was already too late.

The poison hurt for a moment, a fast tightening sensation in his chest that felt like his heart was being crushed, causing him to convulsively exhale all his breath quickly as he raised one hand to his chest instinctively, pain making him collapse slightly against the stone altar with him using his other arm to keep himself somewhat upright.

It was over just as quickly, leaving Victor to feel not cold, or warm, but neutral. Like there _was_ no warm or cold anymore.

He took a couple deep breaths and discovered the odd sensation of the breaths doing almost nothing to his lungs. They inflated and deflated as air entered and left them, but no oxygen was gained by these actions.

Relatively, dying had not been that bad at all.

He sensed more than heard the absolute halt his action had caused in the remaining wedding attendants, everyone watching him in shock.

He straightened slowly, turned around and ignored the light gasps he heard as he faced those present, presumably from the living in relation to his now dead appearance.

He faced Emily squarely, holding her eyes for a long moment before he slowly pulled off his gloves, holding his left hand out to her, palm up, revealing…

A matching strawberry-colored heart-shaped birthmark.

"I've dreamt of you. Always crying in the dark," he said softly, eyes glazed as he remembered his dreams. "_You're_ the one I promised myself I would find," he told her.

He pulled her into a gentle embrace. "I _am_ yours," he whispered to her, holding her securely against him, "and I'll make sure you never have to cry again."

Emily stood stock still in his arms for a long moment before fisting some of his waistcoat jacket in her hands and started crying.

A laughing sort of crying that sounded so happy and altogether different from what he had heard in the darkness that it made his now-still heart soar.

"It's _you_," she whispered, "It's _you_."

He murmured against her lips, "Well, I suppose you can cry if you really _want_ to," and pulled her forward into a kiss, not feeling the slightest bit faint this time.

"I would say that you could kiss the bride," Elder Gutknecht said, looking faintly amused, "but you seem to have beaten me to it."

A/N: The last three chapters were actually written as one, but I broke it down for easier reading.

YAY! I'm at the ending! I'm going to write it as quick as possible!


	12. Fly Beyond Your Dreams

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of The Corpse Bride. This fanfiction is for entertainment purposes only.

A/N: I'm sorry it took me so long to do this chapter.

My muse died suddenly from a heart attack. I think I made her work too hard, writing the rest of this story so fast. I had to wait for her replacement to show up, which is really, supremely _annoying_ as my muses seem to be _invisible_ so it's hard to tell when they arrive!

Fly Beyond Your Dreams

Emily sobbed lightly against his lips, her mouth a firm line for a moment from shock until she _melted_ in his embrace, bringing her arms up to encircle his neck as she leaned into his body.

Nothing mattered outside of this moment, he discovered.

Emily happy in his arms. The two of them together and happy, and utterly beyond his conniving parents' grasp.

Even though neither of them had to breath, they still broke the kiss after a longer-than-normal-but-not-_too_-long kiss. The mannerisms of the Victorian era were still in-ground too deeply in them for them to totally disregard.

"Is the marriage completed?" he asked the Elder, still holding Emily in his arms, as she made happy little sobs in the hollow of his neck.

"Yes, in spite of the interruptions. All of the requirements have been met," he replied. "I hope you not come to regret your decision my boy."

Victor looked at the shining face of his slowly-calming bride.

"_Never_," he smiled, tightening his arms around her slender waist, making her beam.

"Then I think you should be known as the Corpse Groom," Elder Gutknecht said off-handedly, re-corking the poisoned wine.

Victor gave a bark of a laugh.

The title suited him fine.

Who else would marry the Corpse Bride, but the Corpse Groom?

Smiling, he let his head drop into his Brides' sweet smelling hair, wondering idly how it could smell so nice when she had been dead for so long.

Like pressed flowers.

A shocked exclamation brought both their attentions back to the outside world, only to be faced with a surge of corpses rushing forward to congratulate them, Ms. Plum's announcement of "New Arrival!" somehow carrying over the sudden chatter.

"Welcome to the group, man!"

"Drinks on ze house!"

"What'd we miss?"

"Who's the other cutie?"

The voices lapped over each other, but for the moment Victor's attention was bound to the odd sacks the cooks seemed to be carrying. Sacks that seemed to be wriggling.

And one of them seemed to be emitting panicked muffled screams.

"Uh… it that…?" he began.

Ms. Plum rearranged her bag, throwing it over her shoulder for a better grip.

"Yup. I've been needing some new ingredients for my cooking," she grinned.

Victor blinked.

So there really _was_ a fate worse than death.

At least Victor was accustomed to death _before _he _voluntarily _died.

He had no idea of Barkis' horror at suddenly dying and being dismembered, _unwillingly_ and _aware_.

He might have felt sympathy for him if not for all the pain the man had caused others for his own monetary benefit.

And Emily…

He retightened his grip on his bride, wondering how she had existed after the heartbreak of her ruthless murder.

A sudden uneasy shuffle of a newer wedding dress caught his attention back to his brother and Victoria.

Vincent had drawn her away from the throng of dead people as they had rushed forward to his newly-deceased brother and he was watching them with wide eyes, standing protectively in front of the woman he loved.

"Vincent," he called, hearing the other corpses quiet down around him.

His younger brother met his gaze with slightly frightened eyes.

"Take care of her," Victor told his younger brother. "You're heir to Father's company now. Her parents won't be able to disapprove of you anymore."

"Why…why did you do it?" Vincent asked, his voice a little hoarse, eyes still wide.

Victor smiled, sad to see his brother afraid of him, but not regretting his action at all.

"Because I've had so very little happiness in my life," he responded, "And now that I found the one who'll make me happy to rest of my existence, I wasn't about to let her go over a little thing like death. And… I wanted to give her a reason to be happy herself. To be loved and cared for like she deserves."

Vincent was watching Emily now more than his brother, Vincent could tell.

"How will I explain this to Mother and Father?"

"Just tell them Barkis killed me to get the chance to marry Victoria. With his reputation they'll believe it," he smiled.

"Will… will I ever see you again?"

Victor looked at Elder Gutknecht for the answer, who readily replied, "I suppose one trip a year wouldn't be _too_ unreasonable."

Victor smiled as he said, "We'll visit once a year, a week from today."

Vincent smiled uneasily, but still looked relieved.

Elder Gutknecht waved his hand vaguely to draw the corpse crowd's attention.

"Time to go," he informed them.

Slowly, after a few heartfelt goodbyes to loved ones, the dead began leaving the church, each disappearing as they stepped into the moonlight with a gathering and dispersal of blue smoke until only Victor and Emily were left to give their final farewells.

With the others gone, Vincent had come forward to face his brother directly.

Victor could feel his brother's intense gaze as he studied his blue toned skin carefully.

"I can't believe how adult you're acting," Vincent said at long last.

"You always did treat me like the younger brother," he said, smiling at the memory.

"You always acted like one," his brother retorted, before he sobered slightly. "I hope you'll be happy."

Victor smiled at his little brother, as he held Emily tightly to his side, stepping back the final step into the moonlight, feeling the magic begin to drift around him to take him back to the Underworld.

"I already am," he replied, as the magic finished curling itself about their forms as specks of light danced around them, letting his response linger even as the magic swallowed them completely in a sparkling light as they vanished under the moonlight.

THE END

A/N: It's finally **_DONE_**! does a happy dance

I purposely left it open for a sequel, since I've been thinking of doing a short after-story. If I don't, I leave it open for anyone to continue this plot/storyline in any venue they choose.

I've read so many stories that are abandoned that I just _itch_ to finish that I always leave the option open for others to do so for my stories if they so wish.

I only ask to be informed of such so I can read it with the other Corpse Bride fans.

I love fanfics! They have to be one of the best things on the internet, letting everyday people launch their stories out into the world for others to read.

P.S. I kind of imagined Victor and Emily's exit to be like Emily's was in the movie, but without the butterflies.

I just really like that image of being surrounded by a circle of light, dissolving away into a magic that carries you elsewhere.

I thought it would be a perfect ending to the story, and it keeps it in parallel line with the movie, which I did throughout the rest of this story.

Like I said in the summery, this is a _re-write_ of the Corpse Bride in which Victor and Emily end up together, so I kept the basic plot the same.

I hope you all enjoyed this fanfic as much as I certainly enjoyed writing it!

I wish I could leave a reply for all the people who have reviewed this story thus far – I may add another chapter to do just that in the near furure – but for now I will only reply to the last three reviews.

To Coriana Raposa: I hope I didn't make you wait _too _long for the ending! I also hope it met your expectations!

To sakura-light-angel: THANK YOU! I'm very happy to hear that you "loved this story"! I think all the authors on like to hear that others appreciate their work! And I whole-heartedly agree: VICTOR AND EMILY FOREVER!

To Miss Izzy: What _did_ you know? I thought I did pretty good at keeping everything vague. I look forward to your next review for your answer!

Finally, to all my Reviewers, past and future, I hope you have all enjoyed this story.

Also, I ask you to remember that the limit of the world's possibilities is the limit of your dreams, so always remember to dream _beyond_ what you think is possible.

And always, FLY IN YOUR DREAMS


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